51 Shades of Benson
by Hollie Katrina
Summary: A parody of 50 Shades of Grey with an iCarly twist
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys! Yeah, I get it 'why the hell are you writing this and not finishing iRaise Twins?' well, because I feel like it. Meanwhile in the iRT world, things are chaotic and stressful and I'm hoping to ease a bit of that with some parody writing.

Read 50 Shades of Grey? I do NOT suggest it. The only good part of the entire book was the last three pages. Yeah, I said it. Please, hate on me.

So, as with that said (if you can't tell by the title and the previous description) I'm writing a parody of 50 Shades of Grey. iCarly version. Get ready for some really crappy writing, because I'm putting very little effort into this (it may even turn out better than the book). It probably won't be funny because I suck.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own iCarly or 50 Shades of Grey. No point in suing me. I have nothing except a dream and a laptop. And some other stuff. But it's really not worth suing me over.

X

I woke up in my super awesome bedroom and smiled. Yeah. My life was perfect. I hopped out of bed and plopped my butt down in the chair in front of my super awesome camera mirror. Damn my hair. It's ruining my perfect bedrooms image

I whipped my hair into a ponytail and bounced downstairs.

"Yo. Shay. I have an interview today. I don't want to do it. You're going to interview Fredward Benson for me." Sam Puckett, my roomate for the last four years, murmered.

"Awww, Sam! I have final exams to study for!"

"Too bad, cupcake. I'm not feeling up to this chizz today."

Fine, I'll do it," I murmer, stomping into the kitchen. Damn Sam Puckett. Always ruining my perfect life.

"I have an outfit you can borrow so you don't look soo..."

"What? Look so what?"

"Girly. Weak."

"Hey! My look is not girly or weak!"

"Too bad! You're wearing my clothes!" Sam murmered

"Fine," I uttered, looking through the fridge for something to eat. "Sam, did you eat us out of food AGAIN?"

"When mama's hungry mama's hungry. Now go get ready! It's a long drive!"

The drive to Benson Computer's headquarters was a short one, but I don't mention this to Sam.

I skip back up the stairs and sit back in front of my mirror. My brother, Spencer, built my room up after he burned it down with some gummy bear lamp. Spencer doesn't live with us anymore. He got arrested for flashing his socks at young girls in the mall. Sam moved in to help me with the bills while Spencer sits out his seventeen and a half year sentence.

I should be sitting at my desk, staring at the notes I've taken this semester and trying to remember whatever it was the teacher was saying, but instead I'm stuck doing Sam's stupid assignment.

Apparently Fredward Benson is super important just because he donated all the computers our college uses. Top of the line Benson computers were a dream of the dean. Oh, and he'll be speaking at our graduation ceremony. His time is apparently much more valuable than mine, but he was nice enough to take time out of his busy day to allow Sam to interview him. Instead, he'd be getting plain, boring Carly Shay.

I hop back downstairs and into Sam's room. On her bed is laying a tight, low cut white shirt, black blazer jacket and black pencil skirt. I roll my eyes. This is her version of professional. I dress quickly and storm out into the livingroom.

"Sam, are you serious?"

"You gotta let the girls breathe."

I roll my eyes again.

"Where are your questions?"

"On the table."

"And the recorder?"

"It's on the table now hurry up."

I run back into the kitchen, grabbing the piece of paper and recorder and pause by the door.

"Wait, Sam. I don't know anything about this guy," I murmur.

"Me either, kid. Don't worry, just stick to the questions. You'll be fine."

"Only for you, Sam, would I do this."

"Yeah, now hurry up!"

I leave the apartment and make my way into the parking garage, muttering the whole way. Damn her for being so lazy. Damn her for making me do this. Damn her, damn her, damn her.

She'd make a great journalist if she'd put in some time.

The roads are clear and it takes me only ten minutes to get to the headquarters for Benson computers. It's tall, probably twenty stories, and looks like an office building. Benson is written all over the building. _Arrogant prick. _It's only quarter to two when I walk into the intimidating glass, steel and white sandstone lobby where an attractive, groomed, blonde young woman smiles at me. She's wearing the best suit jacket and brightest white shirt I've ever seen. I already hate her.

"I'm here to see Mr. Benson. My name is Carly Shay filling in for Sam Puckett."

"Excuse me a moment, Ms. Shay." She eyes me up before picking up her phone and quietly speaking into it. I smooth out my hair once more, pretending she doesn't bother me. _Still hate you._

"Ms. Puckett is expected. You'll have to sign in, Ms. Shay," she grumbles, not trying to hide her distaste of me. "You'll want the last elevator on the left, press for the 20th floor." I sign in and she hands me a visitors pass. I put on my best fake smile and thank her dramatically. I pass two security guards who stop and check me out before I press the button for the elevator.

The elevator shoots me up to the 20th floor with excessive speed and the doors slide open to another large glass, steel and white sandstone lobby. I'm confronted by another young blonde woman, dressed similarly to the one downstairs.

"Ms. Shay, could you wait here please?" she motions to a seated area of white leather chairs. I figured I'd be waiting, and what better way to wait than sitting on my ass. Behind the chairs is a glass walled meeting room with a ridiculously large table and several matching chairs around it. A floor to ceiling window a view of Seattle just beyond the meeting room shows a view of Seattle that I am not phased by. I see this view every day.

I sit down and tap my foot nervously. Surely it shouldn't take long to fetch Fredward Benson. I'm sure he just sits in his mighty castle and tells everybody what to do all day long. After all, what else could he do? He's already a successful businessman. I frown. Beyond the facts presented to us at the college after the computers were donated I know nothing about him. He could be a ninety year old man for all I know. My nerves skyrocket and I find that my palms are sweating.

_Damn you Sam Puckett._

I suck at one on one interviews. I prefer to cower in the back and only take part in group discussions. I'd much rather be reading a classic British novel then sitting in a massive glass and stone building twitching like a drug addict.

I roll my eyes at myself. _Get a grip, Shay._ I take another look around. The building is too modern for a 90 year old man. He's probably in his forties: fit, tanned and fair-haired to go with his posse of stupid blondes.

Another blonde comes out a large door to the right. I take a deep breath and stand up.

"Ms. Shay?" she asks.

"Yeah," I murmur.

"Mr. Benson will see you in just a moment. Have you been offered anything to drink?"

"No." she turns and shoots an evil look to the first blonde hiding behind the desk.

"Would you like tea, coffee, water, rum?" she asks, turning her attention back to me.

"Water, thanks."

"Olivia." oh, so that's the first blonde's name. I'd say it fits her, but I'd rather look at her like she's some kind of toy rather than a human being. "Fetch Ms. Shay some water." The second blonde demands. Olivia jumps up and runs out the door on the other side. I picture tears streaming down her face.

"My apologies, Ms. Shay. Olivia is new. Please, take a seat. Mr. Benson will be with you shortly."

I sit down again even though I just got up, expecting to be walking into Fredward Benson's office, and Olivia comes back with a glass of iced water.

The second blonde, whose name I didn't catch, marches back over to the desk and plops down into her chair, shooting looks at Olivia every three seconds.

Seems as though Mr. Benson has some sort of obsession with blondes.

Finally, after an eternity, I am granted access to Mr. Benson's office. I open the door and instantly trip over nothing, landing on my hands and knees right in front of him. Some first impression. He helps me stand and I'm so embarrassed I have to steel myself to look up. He's so young. And hot. And his eyes are on my boobs.

"Ms. Puckett," he murmers, extending a hand to me, looking up at my face. "I'm Fredward Benson. Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?"

He's so hot! Tall, dressed in a gray suit, white shirt and black tie. His hair is dark brown, his eyes a matching shade and it takes me a moment to remember I speak English.

"Actually," I murmer. "Ms. Puckett is…um...unavailable at this time, so she sent me. I hope you don't mind."

"And you are?"

"Oh, Carly Shay. I'm studying English Literature with Sam, I mean Samantha. Ms. Puckett. Ms. Samantha Puckett at Washington State."

"I see," he says. I think he's smiling, but I can't tell because he's so damn uptight. "Would you like to sit?"

His office is way too big for just one man, though being as rich as he is I don't think he cares. I sit quickly, avoiding tripping on anything else in the office. I look around. There are several small paintings arranged in a square. They're so well done they look like photographs and put together they are breathtaking. It takes me a moment to recognize them.

"A local artist. Spencer…something."

"Shay. My brother." He raises an eyebrow at me and I'm caught, once again, in his gaze.

"Interesting."

I get to work setting up the recorder and glancing down every few seconds at the ill-prepared list of questions I've been given. It's taking so long and I can feel his eyes on me. I barely muster enough courage to look up at him.

"Sorry," I murmur. "I'm not used to this."

"Take all the time you need, Ms. Shay."

"Do you mind if I record your answers?"

"You ask me now after you've put in the work to set it up?"

I stare at him, aware that my question was really stupid and I should have just kept my mouth shut. A smile plays at his lips and finally, after what seems an eternity, he chuckles. "No, I don't mind."

"Did Sam, I mean, Ms. Puckett, explain what the interview was for?"

"Yes, it's an assignment for her newswriting class. I seem to be important to the school after the donation of the computers. They've asked me to give out the degrees at the graduation ceremony this year."

I'm stunned by the news and for a moment I allow my thoughts to travel. Someone young, perhaps six years or so older than me, and very attractive will be giving me my degree at my graduation ceremony. I bite my lip, thinking of all the things I could do to him after graduation. I take a deep breath.

"Good. I have some questions for you, Mr. Benson."

"I figured as much," he smiles

I flush and sit up, trying to look more intimidating. His smile fades and I press the start button on the recorder.

"You're very young to have such a successful business. To what do you owe your success?"

"I'm smart. I like computers. It was a natural fit."

"That's it?"

"Yup. I spent most of my life learning about computers, taking them apart and putting them back together, testing out software to see what worked and what didn't and in the end I created an unstoppable computer that compares to no other."

He's so arrogant.

"Maybe you're just lucky."

"I don't think so, Ms. Shay. The harder I work the more "luck" I have. I run everything on a tight schedule. Nothing goes without preparation."

"You sound like a control freak."

"Oh, I exercise control in all things, Ms. Shay. "

Now he's super hot.

"Immense power is acquired by assuring yourself in your secret reveries that you were born to control things."

"Do you feel like you have immense power?" what a freak! He's totally controlling!

"Yes."

"Don't you have a board to answer to?"

"Look around, Ms. Shay. This is MY company. I have nobody to answer to. Do you have any questions that pertain to this assignment or are we done here?"

I clear my throat, chancing another look at him, and look back down at Sam's questions.

"Do you have any interests outside of work?"

"I have varied interests, Ms. Shay." His eyes dig deep into my soul, his voice is so smooth and sexy. "Very varied."

"But if you work so hard how do you chill out?"

"What?"

"You know, relax."

"Oh, I sail, I fly, I indulge in various physical pursuits. I'm a rich man, Ms. Shay, and I have expensive and absorbing hobbies."

"You invest in manufacturing. Why?"

"Because I like to build things, I like to know how they work and I like to construct and deconstruct. I thought we'd been over this."

"Would your friends say you're easy to get to know?"

"I'm a private person, Ms. Shay, and I go out of my way to protect my privacy. I don't often give interviews."

"Then why did you agree to let Sam interview you?"

"Because I'm a benefactor of the University and I couldn't get her to leave me alone."

Sam is persistent. When she wants something, she gets it no matter how long she has to fight for it.

"Do you have a philosophy?"

"Hell no. More like a guiding principle. 'A man who acquires the ability to take full possession of his own mind may take possession of anything else to which he is justly entitled.'"

"So you want to possess things?" He is a COMPLETE control freak!

"I want to deserve to possess things."

"You sound like the ultimate consumer"

"I am." Cocky bastard.

"Do you think being a test tube baby had something to do with your intelligence?"

"I have no way of knowing."

"You've had to sacrifice a family life for this business."

"That's not a question."

"Sorry, I meant HAVE you had to sacrifice a family life?"

"I have a mother. That's all I need."

"Are you gay, Mr. Benson?"

"Excuse me?"

"Damn it."

"No, Carly, I'm not."

"Are you sure? Nobody ever sees you with a woman?"

"Does a businessman need to have a woman by his side?"

"Most prefer it."

"I'm not most."

There's a knock on the door and the first blonde pokes her head in.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Benson, but you have a meeting in two minutes."

"I'm not finished here, Olivia. Please cancel it." She hesitates in the doorway and then leaves again. "Tell me about yourself Ms. Shay."

"There's nothing to know about me."

"What are you doing after graduation?"

"I haven't decided. I'm just trying to get through my final exams."

Which I should be studying for instead of sitting here in the enormous office of Mr. Fredward Benson.

"We have an excellent internship program here," he murmurs.

"I'll remember that. Though I'm not sure I'd fit in here."

"Why?"

"It's pretty obvious I'm not blonde."

He smirks. "Would you like me to show you around?"

"No. I think I'll be leaving now."

"So soon?"

"Yes, Sam will be anxious to know how it went."

"You'd better drive carefully. It's slick out there. Do you have everything?"

"Yes sir," I murmur, grabbing the recorder and the questions. "Thank you for the interview."

"The pleasure has been all mine," he murmurs, holding out his hand. I take it again. "Until we meet again, Ms. Shay."

"Mr. Benson." I nod. He moves to the door, opening it wide and smiling again.

"Just making sure you make it through the door this time, Ms. Shay."

"Well thank you."

"Do you have a coat?"

"No."

He presses the button for the elevator and we stand waiting. It couldn't be more awkward. The doors open and I rush inside.

_I need to get the hell out of here._

He's so hot and his chocolate brown eyes are staring into mine, causing me to practically orgasm on the spot.

"Carly," he says as a farewell.

"Fredward," I reply just as the doors close.

X


	2. Chapter 2

49.5 Shades of Benson is brought to you by the letter S….as in the sex in here is going to be ridiculous because that's totally a 50 Shades thing.

Don't own

X

By the time the elevator reaches the first floor I'm already having a full blown panic attack. My lungs can't seem to hold air and my heart is pounding out of my chest. I dart out of the elevator and trip, once again, over nothing. Thankfully I didn't land face first on the floor, though at this point I would have welcomed it over the intense gaze of Mr. Fredward Benson.

I push my way through the crowd of people who all protest and throw myself into the cool Seattle air. I take a deep breath. Oh the dear, sweet scene of pollution.

He's so hot!

I lean against the side of the building, sucking in the venom that would surely end the earth. In and out. In and out. After a few moments I realize that I'm no longer panicking, yet I still enjoy sucking in air. I stand up again, heading back to my car and the boring life that awaits me in Bushwell Plaza.

I replay the interview in my mind and realize that I didn't flirt with him enough. Besides looking girly and weak, as Sam always called me, I looked pathetic. I was stumbling around everywhere, stuttering, and losing myself in the deep brown eyes planted in Mr. Benson's face. I sigh. He's hot and confident, but he's also such a douchebag. He's TOO full of himself, and surely that's a turn off.

Then again why shouldn't he be full of himself? He's smarter than everyone else. He owns his own business. He's hot. Oh boy is he hot. And he's the only young person I've met who is successful. While the rest of us are wasting away our days in college, he's out-selling every computer company in the nation and possibly even the world.

Damn Sam Puckett for making me do this. And damn her for asking about his past. Damn her for not telling me anything. Damn her for being such a lazy college student. Damn her!

I find myself driving carefully just because Fredward Benson told me too. I shouldn't even care what he says, but I want to fuck him so bad that I do care. I'd fuck him anywhere, even on a potato truck, anything to get his penis inside me. Hell I'd even fuck him in the middle of the street.

I turn on the music in my car even though it's useless. I'm still going to think about Fredward Benson and what is sure to be a perfect dick. My thoughts immediately drift back to him and the music is nothing but background noise. Before I know it I'm back in the parking garage at Bushwell and I know if I don't hurry up Sam will lose all interest in what I have to say….that is if she's interested at all.

I enter the apartment and find Sam sitting exactly where she was when I left.

"Hey Carls," she murmers. I carelessly toss her questions and the recorder on the coffee table.

"Hey! Careful with that! I had to wrestle four hobos to get this recorder!"

"Oh well _excuse _me miss I don't feel like doing my assignments so I make my best friend do them!"

"Hey, I only sent you on the interview. I'll write up whatever stupid thing I have to do for this class. How'd it go?"

"Oh it was great, Sam," I say sarcastically

"Yeah, that was a rhetorical question."

"Why didn't you do any research on the guy and at least give me a head start?"

"Sounds like work to me."

"That's what college is, Sam!"

"Well sorry miss prissy pants but nobody said I was cut out for college," she murmered. I huff.

"I have to go. T-Bo's expecting me in twenty minutes and I still have to change when I get there."

"Yeah, yeah have fun."

I started working at the Groovy Smoothie when Spencer got arrested. My dad is already paying for my college so I figured I could get a job to help pay for the apartment. T-Bo is the only person who would hire me and I am officially known as 'stick girl.' After T-Bo fell off an elephant in Africa and was paralyzed he needed somebody to sell his stick food. I was desperate.

"Carly! Why aren't you in your official Groovy Smoothie uniform?" T-Bo rolled up to me.

"I had an interview today."

"Where? Who? You planning on leaving me?"

"No, T-Bo. I had to go interview Fredward Benson because Sam decided she didn't want to."

"Girl, when are you gonna quit doing her school work?"

"When we graduate. I have to go change."

"Yeah, go change. I don't need you drawing attention to yourself that way. Go on stick girl. Get your uniform on."

I change quickly and when I get back to the front counter I see an assortment of desserts carefully placed on sticks. I sigh and pick one up.

"Start at that back table. They've been here a while. Maybe they want some." T-Bo points to a table in the corner where two high school kids are sitting making pathetic kissy faces at each other. I roll my eyes and begin my work.

When I get home Sam is still sitting on the couch, a horror film replacing the cartoons she was watching earlier that morning. I slam the door, but she doesn't bother to look up. I drop my bag on the floor and join her. My mind goes back to the essay I'm supposed to be working on and the studying I have yet to do.

Damn Sam Puckett.

"Did you work on anything today?"

"Shhh. Talk later." She waves me off.

"Sam!"

"Yeah I listened to your interview," she murmers, turning to me. "You should have taken him up on his offer to show you around. He could have shown you some really interesting places. You're welcome for the outfit by the way."

"Not every girl is just interested in sex, Sam!"

"He's a good looking guy, Carls, and you are easy to read."

Crap.

"You could have done it yourself!"

"But I didn't. Anyway, thanks again cupcake. You're a doll."

I stand up and storm upstairs again. I hate her, but I love her because she's my best friends. Right now I'd just like to drown her.

I begin work on my essay, trying to control my thoughts. I find myself doodling pictures of Fredward Benson on my paper and realize quickly that I will never be able to focus ever again because of him. I slam my pen down childishly and walk to the window. I wish I could fuck him with the world watching. I walk back to my desk and begin writing again.

By the time I finish my essay I realize Sam is already in bed, probably having not done anything with the interview she forced me to do. Damn her. I stand up, yawn and stretch and then curl up in my bed. I'm instantly asleep with visions of Fredward Benson and his entrancing stare.

The rest of the week speeds by as I try, and fail, day after day to focus on school and work. I always see Fredward Benson and when I see him I can't help but want to fuck him. I bet he's good in bed. Even my virgin self can't help but want him. Sam finally started writing the article off of the interview that I conducted.

I call my dad but tell him nothing about Fredward Benson. Apparently he's invested some time and money into a new monkey training business. He's pretty excited about it. He throws me off guard when he asks if I've met anyone, but I deny it.

Later that night I receive a phone call from Spencer. He's only allowed one phone call a week and it's usually to me. He tells me about the bad prison food and repeats, for the 600th time, how upset he is that they took his magical, awesome socks when they hauled him away. He swears he didn't know flashing socks at young girls was a crime.

Friday night Sam is, once again, planted onto the couch. I want to do something besides watch television, but she's so dead set on sitting around all the time that it's impossible. Finally, I talk her into allowing our friend, Gibby, to come over as a break from school work, not that she's doing much school work in the first place.

Gibby shows up with a bottle of champagne and doesn't hesitate to open the sucker up and start pouring glasses. His dad and my dad were in the same boot camp, so we already know each other. He goes to school for engineering, but he prefers to take pictures of cats and trees.

"I have news." He starts. Sam groans and throws her head back.

"This is like the eighth time this week you've had news."

"Sam—" I scold.

"The Seattle Art Museum is going to exhibit my photos next month as part of an 'up and coming artist' showcase!" Gibby interrupts.

"Gibby! That's awesome!" I murmer.

"Yeah, yeah. Hey, did you go grocery shopping?" Sam asks. I roll my eyes.

"Anyway, I want you to come to the opening," Gibby says. I shrug.

"Maybe." I know Gibby is in love with me because everyone is in love with me. I'm pretty, I'm smart and I'm Carly Shay. Who wouldn't be in love with me? Oh, right. Mr. Fredward Benson. But hey, a girl can dream.

Saturday afternoon at the GS is a nightmare. People are trying to grab my stick up and shove it in unpleasant places, T-Bo is a mess trying to wheel around behind the counter making smoothies and the place is packed with college kids just trying to catch a break for the weekend.

"Excuse me," I hear a smooth voice behind me and I turn around, caught up in the gaze of Mr. Fredward Benson. "Do you mind?" he points to the pretzel on a stick. I shake my head.

"Go ahead, but you'll have to pay T-Bo for it."

"I like this position."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"What are you doing here? A rich guy like you ought to be able to afford more than a pretzel and a smoothie."

"I want in the neighborhood, Ms. Shay."

"My name is Carly."

"I know your name. I just prefer to call you Ms. Shay. Aside from that, I do enjoy a pretzel and a smoothie from time to time."

"They are good smoothies."

"Have you worked here long?"

"Since I started college."

"What do you enjoy doing?"

"Reading." _And fantasizing about you._

"What do you read?"

"Mostly British literature, but I do enjoy a good romance novel once in a while."

"I want to make you my bitch."

"What?"

"Nothing. What kind of smoothie would you recommend?"

"A strawberry splat, but make sure Kyle makes it and not T-Bo. T-Bo hasn't been very good since the accident."

"I will do that, Ms. Shay. Thank you. How is the article coming along?"

"Oh, it's going great. Though I'm not writing it. Sam is. She's irritated that she doesn't have any original photos of you."

He raises an eyebrow.

"What kind of photos does she want?"

I shrug.

"Well I'm always available for you, Ms. Shay. Perhaps tomorrow we could arrange something."

"You're seriously willing to do a photo shoot?"

"Of course."

My sex diva jumps up and down, celebrating the chance of seeing him again tomorrow. I sigh, a smile planted on my face like a school girl.

"I'll tell her you said that," I murmer. He pulls out a business card from his back pocket. _Of course he carries business cards with him. He's such a dick. He probably has a big one too. _I bite my lip.

"Let me know about tomorrow. Call before ten in the morning."

Mr. Benson makes his way to the counter and pays for his smoothie and pretzel. T-Bo looks pleased that something on a stick sold today. Fredward Benson passes me again, pausing.

"You'll call me if you want to do the photo shoot?" I nod, completely unable to speak again because his eyes have caught me off guard and now I have to do everything in my power to keep myself from fucking him in the middle of the Groovy Smoothie.

"Good. Until tomorrow, hopefully." He turns to leave. "Oh, and Carly? I'm glad Ms. Puckett couldn't do the interview." He winks at me and heads out the door.

X


	3. Chapter 3

So my title changed from 50 Shades of Benson to 51 Shades of Benson to 49.5 Shades of Benson but since they wouldn't accept my period in the title and I couldn't write it as 49 1 (/) 2 I just changed it back to 51 Shades of Benson. Not that you needed that explanation lol.

Enjoy!

X

Sam is amused.

"So he showed up at the Smoothie. Classy guy right there." I'm hiding in the bathroom pretending I didn't almost just jump his bones, but apparently I'm not doing a very good job.

"He just wanted a smoothie," I murmur. Sam laughs.

"Right, and my mom just wanted to have sex with that hobo. Face it, Carls. The dude wants you."

My heart jumps for joy at the thought of him wanting to fuck me like I want to fuck him, but it's short lived when I realize that I am plain, old, boring Carly Shay and my vagina has little to offer with its lack of sexual attention the last….my whole life.

"Sam, he just stopped in for a smoothie. Besides, how would he even know I work there?"

"Because he's Fredward freakin' Benson. The dude is the biggest computer nerd in the world. I'm sure he could track your location down to a T."

"Do you want to do the photo shoot or not?"

"Oh, kid. The things you do to change the subject. Yes, set it up."

"Why me?"

"Because he wants to bang you."

"Sam, he's just being nice!"

As soon as the words are out of my mouth I realize how stupid I sound. It seems to happen a lot lately. Why would Fredward Benson want to be nice to _me? _

"Hey, maybe Gibby will take the pics," Sam's voice interrupts my thoughts.

"Yeah. I'll ask him later when I get home."

"No. Hang up and call him now. I don't need the dude making some imaginary plans the day we need him."

"Sam I'm at work!"

"Too bad! Call him!" she hangs up on me and I groan.

I'm just leaving a message on Gibby's phone when T-Bo rolls into the bathroom.

"Carly Shay! You went on a bathroom break half an hour ago! Get your stick yielding butt back out there and sell me some pretzels!"

"Sorry," I murmur, stepping out of the stalls. T-Bo follows me out.

"So how do you know that Fredward Benson guy?"

"I had to interview him for Sam."

"I tried to get his picture to put on my wall but the dude refused."

"Maybe I can get you one tomorrow."

X

"Carly, I do inanimate objects, not people."

"Cats aren't inanimate objects. Come on, Gibby, this is the opportunity of a lifetime." I start chewing on my nails, a habit I picked up when I started high school.

"Oh for God's sake give me the phone!" Sam snatches the phone out of my hand. "Listen here Gibby you'll either do the photo shoot or you'll find yourself at the bottom of the ocean!" She ends the call and hands the phone back to me. "Now that that's sorted out, call Fredward Benson. Figure out where he wants this to go down."

I roll my eyes.

"Hurry up!"

Sam's been extra moody lately and if she wasn't my best friend I'd be annoyed by it. I fish Fredward Benson's business card out of my back pocket and slowly dial his number into the phone. He answers on the second ring.

"Benson."

"Umm….Mr. Benson? It's Carly Shay." It's silent on the other end and I fear he's hung up on me.

"Ms. Shay! How great to hear from you."

"Umm…we'd like to go ahead with the photo shoot if that's okay with you. Tomorrow maybe? Wherever you want."

"That sounds great, Ms. Shay. We can do it in my office at say…nine thirty?"

"Okay," I murmur. "See you tomorrow."

"I look forward to it." I visualize his gorgeous brown eyes raking over my body and have to hang up quickly. Sam is digging through the fridge, but she stands up quickly and notices my flushed cheeks.

"I knew you wanted him," she laughs.

"Oh whatever, Sam. I blush all the time. Don't be so ridiculous."

"So where are we doing this?"

"His office tomorrow at 9:30."

"In the morning?"

"Yes, Sam. In the morning."

"Who gets up that early?"

"Normal people!"

"Figures he'd want to do it as soon as the sun comes up. What a nerd."

"Sam, the sun comes up much earlier than 9:30."

"Whatever." She grabs her three day old pizza out of the fridge and proceeds to her room. I sigh and head back upstairs to study.

X

I have a hard time sleeping that night while Fredward Benson takes over my dreams. His perfectly sculpted jaw, his gorgeous brown eyes, his strong arms. I dream of him taking me deep into the woods and fucking me against a tree. I wake up several times and each time I'm more disappointed than the last. I'm still in my stupid bedroom.

His office looks exactly the same and the same blonde girl who greeted me last time is waiting, once again, behind the desk. Sam demands to see Mr. Benson and within minutes we are back on the 20th floor awaiting his approval to enter.

When we finally get it Gibby gets started on the set up. Sam commands him from the side.

"We'll shoot against that wall. Some of him behind his desk too."

"Aye, aye captain," Gibby murmurs sarcastically. Sam rolls her eyes. Once Gibby is all set up Mr. Benson positions himself where Sam directed. I'm momentarily lost in his perfection. He glances at me and a hint of a smile appears on his face. I nearly pass out.

Gibby begins his roam around the room, snapping different shots of Mr. Benson. The whole time Fredward Benson continues to sneak looks at me and I wonder if I look funny. Maybe I have a zit growing on my face. Maybe my hair is messed up. I begin to feel self-conscious again.

"Enough! Sit down, Benson," Sam commands. I stare at her, but Fredward Benson just sits in his chair and allows Gibby to snap a few more shots of him. Five minutes later Gibby announces that he is finished.

"I look forward to reading the article, Ms. Puckett," Mr. Benson says.

"Good luck with that, hotshot, it's a class assignment," Sam replies.

I roll my eyes.

"Ms. Shay, will you walk with me?"

"Sure," I murmur, glancing around the room. Sam has her 'I told you so' look on her face. Fredward Benson opens the door and allows me to walk out first. I have to remember how to breathe because I lost the ability to think as soon as he looked at me.

A man follows him out.

"I'll call you, Nevel." He turns back to me.

"I wondered if you'd like to eat cake with me on top of the building."

I freeze. A date? Fredward Benson is asking me out on a date?

"What kind of cake?"

"Vanilla….or chocolate. Whichever you prefer."

"I…um….I have to drive everyone home." I start chewing on my nails again.

"Nevel!" he calls, making me drop my hands back to my side. Nevel turns and heads back down towards us.

"Where to my lady?"

"Um, back to the school?"

"Nevel can take them. He's my driver."

"What about all the stuff?"

"We have a big vehicle."

Nevel appears again. "Yes, Mr. Benson?"

"Please drive Sam and Gibby home."

"Yes sir."

"Settled. So cake?"

"Um…look Nevel doesn't have to drive them home." I look around.

"It would be my pleasure, Ms. Shay," Nevel reassures me.

"Yo, Carls!" Sam appears in the lobby. "Are you almost done? Mama needs some meat."

"Actually…um…Mr. Benson has asked me to—"

"Woah, woah, woah. Listen here, hotshot. This girl is my ride home and-."

"Nevel will be glad to drive you home and purchase any food and/or beverage you desire, Ms. Puckett."

"Well, okay then. But you better be careful. She's—"

"Bye Sam!" I interrupt her. She rolls her eyes and turns back into the office again.

"Are you ready now, Ms. Shay?"

"Yes."

"Alright, up we go." He leads me to a private elevator and it whisks us up to the roof.

"How long have you known Ms. Puckett?"

"Since we were kids."

"Hmm," he replies. I am struggling to maintain a straight face, so I stare at the ground. I peek at him and see he's smiling again. He takes my hand, leading me to a table on the edge of the building overlooking Seattle. My heart races at the realization that we are touching. He pulls out a chair for me and snaps his fingers. Olivia is at our sides in a heartbeat.

"Chocolate or Vanilla, Ms. Shay?"

"Um, Vanilla I think."

He runs his fingers through his hair and I bite my lip. I'd like to do that to him. I'd like to pull his hair and-"

"What are you thinking, Ms. Shay?" I blush.

"This view is…um….pretty great."

"It is. So is he your boyfriend?" I nearly choke on my cake.

"What? Who?"

"The photographer. What is it? Gibby?"

"Oh hell no. Gibby's cool but…I mean….no. Why would you think that?"

"The way you smiled at him and he at you." His brown eyes stare into mine and I have to force myself to breathe again.

"He's kinda like my brother….but not."

"I see," he nods. "You seem very nervous, Ms. Shay."

_Because I am. _

"Just around you. You're quite intimidating."

"Indeed I am," he murmurs. "Don't look at your hands. I want to see your face."

"Are you always this bossy?"

"Usually, yes."

"Well isn't that a relief."

"I prefer to look into the eyes of the woman I am having a conversation with. Especially you, Ms. Shay. You are a mystery."

I laugh.

"There's not a mysterious thing about me."

"You're very self-contained."

I laugh harder.

"And you blush a lot."

_Because you're so freakin' hot and I just want to fuck you on this table._

"Do you always make such personal observations?"

"Have I offended you?"

"No."

"Good."

"Although you're very high handed."

"I'm used to getting my way."

"What are you, seven?"

"Twenty-Seven actually."

_Holy shit he's NOT much older than me._

"So where are your parents?" he questions.

"My dad is stationed….far away. My mom is in a Mexican prison."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Where is your brother?"

"Oh, he's in prison. Like mother like son I guess."

"Interesting."

"Tell me about your parents."

"My mother is…..a very special woman."

"That's all you're going to tell me?"

"There are no words to describe her."

I sigh and glance at my watch.

"Well, Mr. Benson, this has been fun but I have quite a bit of studying to do."

"For your exams?"

_No for my freakin' drug test._

"Yes." I stand up.

"Do you always wear skirts?"

"Mostly, yes." He stands as well. "Do you have a girlfriend?" I blurt out. He laughs.

"No, Carly. I don't do girlfriends."

I sigh and turn quickly, nearly falling over the ledge of the building. Luckily Mr. Benson catches me.

"Shit, Carly!" he pulls me back up. "Are you okay?" he has his arms around me and he is staring into my eyes. He licks his lips and I hear his breath hitch. His lips are moving closer to me. I hold my breath, waiting for the moment, savoring the sweet smell of his breath.

I want to feel his mouth all over me. For the first time in 21 years I want a man to kiss me.


	4. Chapter 4

You're the one who saw me through it all. You saw the best there was in me. You gave me wings and made me fly. I lost my faith you gave it back to me. You said no star was out of reach. I was blessed because I was loved by you. You were always there for me. You've been my inspiration. My world is a better place because of you.

For all those times you stood by me.

I miss you. Don't let me give up.

I don't own iCarly or 50 Shades of Grey….but I hope you enjoy this anyway

X

_Kiss me, damn it! KISS ME! KISS MEEEEEEEEEE! RIGHT NOW FREDWARD BENSON! SHOVE YOUR TONGUE IN MY MOUTH!_

My mind is going wild as I stare at the perfectly formed lips of the angel in front of me. He is looking down at me and his brown eyes are darker than usual with the apparent need to have my body against his. He's breathing hard, the smell of chocolate cake coming off of his breath and I inhale deeply, savoring the scent.

Suddenly, without warning, he backs away. I am left disappointed.

"Get away from me, Carly. I would break you like a twig."

I frown and my eyes begin to water. I've never been rejected before. I've always been the one rejecting. Surely he understands that. Surely he understands that this is my decision to make and nothing he says will sway me from it.

He says he doesn't want me, but his body tells a different story.

_Kiss me damn it!_

I turn on my heel and head back out to my car. Two can play that game. I'll pretend I don't want him either and see how he likes it. Damn him.

My eyes continue to water, but I refuse to allow the tears to fall. Not yet. Not until I'm far enough away that he can't see me. I get into my car and almost instantly my eyes release the tears I was holding back and I'm sobbing in the middle of the parking lot. Damn Fredward Benson! Damn him for playing so damn hard to get!

_Stop it! Quit your crying! You're such a baby! _

I start my car and begin the short drive home. When I arrive I wipe my eyes, reapply my make up to look like I wasn't just bawling my eyes out, and enter to lobby of Bushwell. I walk to the elevator, ignoring the bossy screams of old Lewbert in the background and head up to apartment 8C. I open the door and find Sam digging around inside a large package. She looks up.

"How was your date with Frednerd Benson?"

"It was fine, Sam. What's in the box?"

"Just some lame old books." she picks one up and then drops it back in the box. I approach the counter and pick the same book up.

"Sam! These are classic novels!"

"Mama don't read."

"God these must have cost a fortune! Who sent them to you?"

"It's not for me. It's for you. And I have no idea."

I pick up the card and stare at it for a long time.

_Stay away from me, Carly Shay_.

Of course. Fredward Benson.

X

Later that night Sam convinces me to go out to the bar with her. I'm not big on the bar scene, but I feel like getting totally trashed and trying to forget about Fredward Benson, so I agree. After way too many drinks (two for me, seventeen for Sam) I grab my cell phone and head to the bathroom. I feel like I have to pee, but I can't seem to walk anywhere. I start randomly dialing numbers into my phone.

"Carly?" the groggy, yet sexy voice of Fredward Benson greets me. I giggle.

"Hi Freddieeeee," I laugh. I hear him groan. "Why did you send me those books?" I slur.

"Carly? Are you okay? You sound strange." his voice is full of concern.

"I'm not the strange one," I yell in my drunkeness. "You are!" that will teach him to reject me.

"Are you drunk?"

"What's it to you Mr. Hotshot?"

"I'm just curious. Where are you?"

"I'm in a bar," I laugh again.

"Which bar?"

"That's for you to know and me to find out!"

"Carly..."

"I'm living the dream!"

"How are you getting home?"

"I'm going to climb on a giraffe's back."

"Carly, where are you?"

"Why'd you send me those books, Fredward?"

"Damn it, Carly, tell me where you are."

"You're so dumb."

"Carly, where the fuck are you?!"

"Goodnight, Fredward!"

"Carl-" I hang up the phone and begin to laugh again. That will show him. He's not the only one who can play games.

The object tonight was to get drunk and I have succeeded. Mission accomplished.

My phone rings and without hesitation I answer it, laughter overtaking me again.

"Hi Freddieeeeee."

"I'm coming to get you," he says and then hangs up. I laugh some more.

I stumble back to the table.

"Sam, I'm going outside to get some air."

"Carls, you are such a lightweight," she laughs. I turn towards the doors and stumble outside. I clutch my stomach, feeling like I might throw up. Gibby follows me.

"Carly? Are you okay?"

"Who? Me? Oh I'm fine. I think I just had too much to drink."

"You only had two beers," he comments. I ignore him. He steps closer and puts his arm around me.

"Gib, I'm fine."

"Well I'm not fine, Carly! How long do I have to wait for you? I've just been waiting around, rejecting girl after girl, hoping and praying that one day you'd love me as much as I love you! You're all I've ever wanted, Carly Shay! Why won't you give me a chance?"

"Gibby don't-" he cuts me off, pressing his lips to mine. I can't breathe. I fight him off, but he won't let go. He keeps his mouth on mine. I feel like I might die. Out of nowhere, a familiar voice sounds out.

"I believe she denied you that right, now release her!"

My knight in shining armor.

"Fuck off, Benson."

Suddenly Gibby is on the ground and I am free. I take a few breaths of the sweet, fresh air and chance a look at Fredward Benson. He is furious, his breathing heavy as he stares down at Gibby. My stomach heaves and I double over. Fredward is at my side in an instant, pulling my hair back. I release the contents of my stomach into the plants in front of the bar. My head is spinning and once I'm done vomiting Fredward picks me up into his arms.

"Come on, I'll take you home," he murmurs.

"But, I need to tell Sam-"

"I'm sure Gibby can handle it."

"How did you find me?"

"I tracked your phone, Carly. Surely you didn't think a tech whiz like myself couldn't handle tracking your cell phone."

_Stalker._

"Please, just let me tell Sam."

"Fine." He sets me on the ground, but keeps an arm wrapped around me to steady me. We walk back into the bar where I see Sam dancing her ass off with some hunk of a blonde. Fredward sits me at a table and approaches the blonde. I can't tell what he's saying, but Sam gives me a brief look of concern and then goes back to dancing. Fredward leads me out to his car once more.

The last thing I hear before I pass out are the soft murmurs of Fredward Benson.


	5. Chapter 5

I wake up in a room I think I've never seen before. Breathing in the sheets, I realize that a man lives here. Don't ask me how I know. I just know. I'm a virgin, but I know everything about sleeping in a man's bed. I'm in a state of bliss, just absorbing the scent of the sheets and taking in my surroundings. Despite not recognizing where I am, the room seems oddly familiar, it's massive with expensive furniture and seventeen different computers. Some seem to be on display, while others are torn apart.

Holy shit, I'm in Fredward Benson's room!

I suddenly remember the events of last night and feel my face get hot. I was drinking and Gibby kissed me and I was drunk calling Fredward and then I...VOMITTED! Oh my God! Fredward Benson saw me throw up! That's so unlady like! Girls never vomit! I throw the sheets off of me and realize I'm missing my pants. I move around a bit. I feel fine, nothing special. I must still be a virgin!

Fredward Benson enters the room and I quickly cover myself back up with the sheets, embarrased.

"Did you undress me?"

"Yup."

"Did we...you know...?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Because I want to hear you scream my name and you can't do that if you're sleeping."

Holy shit. Fredward Benson wants to make me scream!

"You know you didn't have to stalk me last night. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

"It sure looked like it last night," he laughs. "Besides, the technology to track a cell phone can be found on the internet. It's certainly not stalking."

"Oh right, that's definitely not stalker material."

"I was very worried about you, Carly. You know, if you were mine you wouldn't be able to walk after the stunt you pulled last night. Not eating, getting drunk, putting yourself at risk. Imagine if I hadn't shown up and that Gibby kid didn't let you go long enough to vomit. You would have choked on it and died."

Who does he think he is? If I was his...well I'm not!

"I think you've made it quite clear that you don't want me, Fredward Benson."

"Oh, dear Carly. I only said I don't do the girlfriend thing. Would you like to shower first?"

"No, I think I best be getting home."

"Please, don't run off in a huff. Have a shower, eat some breakfast and then I will take you home."

I storm off to the bathroom. The hot water feels great, very relaxing, and the steam helps clear my head. I lather his body wash all over myself, imagining he's doing it for me, and when I'm done I step out of the room in just a towel. Fredward is already sitting at an overly-massive table covered in a variety of food. He looks up and his usually calm expression jumps to shock for half a second before he motions to the chair at the end of the table.

"I ordered everything because I wasn't sure what you liked."

"Ordered?"

"Yes, I have a personal chef who makes all my food and brings it to me."

"I'm not really hungry."

"Eat," he demands. I quickly pick up a pancake and shove the whole thing in my mouth. He looks at me, impressed.

"Looks like you can fit a lot in your mouth."

I'm caught off guard, but he changes the subject.

"So have you thought any more about what you'll do once you graduate?"

"I've already applied to a few places."

"Have you thought of applying to my company as I suggested?"

"No?"

"Why not? What's wrong with my company?"

"Um aside from the fact that it's full of bimbo and/or rude blonde woman it's also a computer company and I am in no way, shape or form smart enough to work for a computer company."

"I would take offence to that statement, Ms. Shay, however I can't deny that most of the woman working for my company are blonde," he smirks and I bite my lip. "Oh Carly, you don't know how sexy you are when you bite your lip."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You're very complicated, Mr. Benson."

"How so?"

"You say one thing and then turn around a minute later and say something else. What is it, exactly, that you want?"

"You."

"Then why don't you take me?"

"Because." He glares at the table. "I'm not going to touch you until I have your written consent to do so."

"Then give me a napkin."

"No, Carly. You don't quite understand."

"Then explain it to me."

"I will," he murmurs. "Tonight." He picks up his phone. "Nevel, I'm going to need Big Bird tonight at say...20:30." He hangs up the phone.

"What on earth is Big Bird?"

"It's my helicopter. We're going to go flying around Seattle tonight."

"Fly?"

"Yes, Carly. Fly."

"Um, I think I'm done."

"Okay."

"I'm just going to go...freshen up a bit." I head into the bathroom and there waiting for me on the counter is Fredward Benson's toothbrush. It's blue and freakishly clean for an object that spends it's time in his mouth. Then again, Fredward is a very clean person. I pick it up, admiring it, and then use it to brush my teeth. To most people this would be disgusting, but I need to get his spit in my mouth somehow. I finish brushing my teeth in double time and head back out to the dining room. He is waiting for me.

"Are you ready to go?"

"Yes." he leads me out the door and as we're walking down the hallway he turns to me, slamming me into the wall, pinning my hands above my head and holding me against the wall with his hips. He has a free hand which he uses to grab my hair and pull it down, lifting my face up. He crushes his mouth to mine and I moan, giving him full access to explore my mouth with his tongue. It tastes wonderful. I've never been kissed like this. I finally muster enough courage to match the movements of his tongue and soon enough we are fighting for dominance. My sex diva is going crazy. I can feel his erection against me and I no longer care that we're in the middle of the hallway. I want him. He wants me. Here. Now. A door opens down the hall and he pushes away from me in a second.

"You've brushed your teeth," he states the obvious. I nod.

"I used your toothbrush. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all."

He takes me hand again and leads me back down the hallway.


	6. Chapter 6

Hey guys! I forgot I had this chapter written already and I've been so busy with the holiday season and other writing pieces that I didn't have much time to focus on this. My bad.

Oh, I donated my hair to Locks of Love. Pretty excited.

On with the show. Like I mentioned earlier, I don't own anybody in this and really I don't own the storyline either. Then again I really only have to have a disclaimer for the iCarly references as the 50 Shades of Grey storyline I'm using as a parody and that is apparently allowed per the rules of copyright or something.

X

Fredward opens the door to the magic school bus and I climb in. The thing's a beast. He has yet to mention the outburst of passion that exploded in the hallway and it's safe to say I'm disappointed. Was I _that _bad of a kisser? I mean, I didn't have much experience in my lonesome, boring life. Should I bring it up? Should I tell him I want him? Should I attack him right on this bus and get what I want? I am a changed woman, now. I'm no longer sweet, innocent, girly Carly Shay. I've had my first real kiss, intense and nearly satisfying. I glance at him. He climbs into the driver's seat of the big bus and starts the engine. He pulls forward into Seattle traffic. I feel like I can see the whole world from this seat even though I live on the 8th floor of an apartment building. He turns on some music, opera I think, and I'm suddenly overwhelmed by the powerful voices of the woman singing. It's marvelous, and it almost makes me forget how much I want to fuck him.

"Is this the kind of music you enjoy?" I ask him. He laughs.

"I enjoy a variety of music, Ms. Shay."

"This is beautiful."

"I agree. What kind of music do you enjoy?"

"I like Cuddlefish..." I reply sheepishly. Surely a man like Fredward Benson couldn't enjoy such a childish band. He smiles.

"A very good band, indeed." He changes the song and Cuddlefish surrounds me.

"I love this song!"

He pulls the giant bus up in front of Bushwell and I stand.

"I liked what happened in the hallway," I murmur as he opens the door. I think he's taken by surprise, but I have no idea and I'm not sticking around the find out. I bolt down the stairs of the bus and run inside the building before he can respond.

Sam and Brad are hanging out on the couch. She has the most ridiculous, un-Sam like smile on her face and I realize that she probably got laid last night. Damn Sam. She always gets everything! Brad looks down at her, smiling, and then starts making out with her again.

"Ew! I'm in the room!" I scream. Sam waves me off, but Brad breaks away from her.

"If anybody ever tells you you're not good at anything remind them of this moment, Carly Shay." I roll my eyes. "Are you jealous? Did Mr. Fredward Benson not kiss you yet?" I blush.

"Once."

"Once?" she laughs. I nod.

"Sorry we aren't going at it like a couple of rabbits after the first date, Sam Puckett, but some of us have some pride left in our bodies."

"I have pride. I'm proud to have slept with this gorgeous blonde man sitting next to me." She winks at Brad and he smiles, smashing his mouth against hers again.

"God, you guys are so gross!" I escape to my bedroom to fantasize about Fredward Benson. It's all I do since I've met him. Then again, I never really had much of a life before that besides working and trying to avoid Gibby's love for me, so I guess this is a step up.

I can hear Sam moaning and I roll my eyes. I'm in for a long day.

X

After work Fredward picks me up in the big, yellow bus. We begin the short drive to where his helicopter is waiting. It is also yellow. I'm starting to think his favorite color is yellow. It would explain the blondes at his company. Blonde is close to yellow. Maybe he'd hire Sam if she was more prone to doing work. My mind is rambling again because I'm nervous and let's face it, with a gorgeous man like Fredward Benson standing in front of you who wouldn't ramble? Oh right, normal people.

"Nevel." He nods at his driver/assistant. He leads me to a set of elevators. Once secluded, I am reminded of the kiss we shared that morning. It's all that's been on my mind all day. Twice T-Bo had to whack me with my own stick to get me to focus. I can't help it. I want him. I want him so bad. I've been distracted. Fredward glances down at me, a smile on his lips as if he's mocking me.

'I remember, but I refuse to speak of it.'

"It's only three floors."

My fantasy of kissing him again in this elevator is crushed when he reveals this. Surely there's a way to stop the elevator. We can do it in Bushwell. He chuckles next to me as if he can read my mind. He probably can. He can do everything else. In no time we are on the roof where Big Bird sits waiting for us. He lifts me into the helicopter because I'm totally incapable of doing this myself and then buckles me in like a small child.

"You're secure. No escaping," He murmurs, leaning in closer. "Breathe, Carly," he whispers.

Maybe I could if this hunk of man wasn't three inches from my face.

"You're not helping in that department."

He chuckles and goes around to the other side of the helicopter. He's in and buckled in no time and we are on our way. I honestly don't see the point of this helicopter ride, but he insists on it so I go along because all I want is to please Fredward Benson. My whole life now revolves around him because I want to fuck him so bad. I will do _anything _to have him.

We fly around in the helicopter for two hours before he lands it safely on the roof, unbuckles me and assists me back into the building. We make our way back to his apartment. He hands me a paper and a pen. I glance at it.

"What is this?"

"It's an agreement."

"And what does it mean?"

"It means you can't talk about us to anybody."

"But what about Sam?"

"No."

"Spencer?"

"No."

"My dad?"

"Nobody, Carly."

I hesitate a moment, weighing the pros and cons of signing. On one hand I will get what I want which is what typically happens. Fredward Benson will be mine. On the other hand I won't be able to brag about it to the world, which pretty much blows.

"Okay, I'll sign." I pick up the pen but he stops me.

"Aren't you even going to read it?"

"Why? You already told me what it is."

"Fair enough." I sign the paper.

"Does this mean you're going to make love to me now, Fredward?"

He laughs. "No, Carly. First, I don't make love. To make love, you must love somebody and I will never love anybody but myself. I fuck. Hard. Second, there's a lot more paperwork to do before we go that far. You still don't understand what you're in for. I have a lot of needs and my needs aren't for everyone. I want to give you the chance to turn down the opportunity should it not be for you. Come along, I want to show you my play room."

"Play room? As in toys?" I laugh.

"Something like that."

He fishes out a key from his pocket and unlocks a door.

"You can leave whenever you want to. Nevel is waiting when you want to go. Or you can stay the night and go home in the morning. Whichever you decide."

Bitch I ain't leaving.

He takes a deep breath and pushes the door open. He stands back, allowing me access into the room. I take a deep breath and move forward. What I see is beyond anything I could have imagined.

X


End file.
